Hot flashes

Zhou Heng felt like a piece of red-hot charcoal, stumbling with each step and leaving scorching marks in the dark corridor.

His vision was blurred and distorted, and his ears were ringing. Only the overwhelming and unfamiliar desire deep within his body was terrifyingly clear, driving him to rush towards the room that had been temporarily assigned to him in his memory, relying on the last bit of his remaining sense of direction.

His fingers trembled so much he could barely hold the latch. With great difficulty, he pushed it open a crack and slipped inside like an eel. He turned around and tried to slam the door shut with all his might, as if he could shut out the agonizing heat and shame that haunted him.

However, just before the door closed, a large hand with distinct knuckles, wearing a leather wristband, suddenly and forcefully inserted itself from outside the door crack, blocking the door panel.

Zhou Heng was terrified. Before he could even scream, the hand suddenly exerted force, and the door was pushed open more roughly. A tall, heavy shadow, carrying the chill of the night wind, instantly invaded the small space.

"Ugh—!" Zhou Heng was pulled backward by the force, but he did not fall down.

An arm, as strong as an iron hoop, swiftly wrapped around his waist and abdomen, pulling him back tightly and locking him firmly into a chest as hard as iron, yet equally hot.

Immediately afterwards, with a loud bang, the door was kicked shut and bolted shut behind them, cutting off all outside noise.

The world spun around him as Zhou Heng's back slammed heavily against the cold door, causing him to groan. Before he could even see who it was, hot lips, reeking of alcohol and carrying a chilling aura, pressed down hard on his body, silencing any possible gasp from him.

It was a kiss devoid of any tenderness, filled with punishment and predation. Lips and tongue brutally invaded, prying open his unguarded teeth and sweeping them wantonly.

Zhou Heng was already completely out of his mind due to the effects of the drug. This sudden and forceful touch not only failed to bring him back to his senses, but it was like pouring a ladle of water into boiling oil, igniting all the suppressed desires within him.

"Ugh... um..." He let out a muffled sob that sounded more like a pleasurable cry, his remaining consciousness vanished, and his body reacted before his brain could.

Like a dying vine seeking something to cling to, he eagerly climbed up the person's neck, tilting his head back to respond to the kiss with a mix of awkwardness and fervor, even trying to seize some initiative.

With his other hand, he haphazardly tore at his own clothes, the intricate ties becoming a detestable obstacle in his hands, while simultaneously pulling at the other person's hard, cold black outer robe.

The air was scorching, breaths mingled, and clothes rustled together, making a blush-inducing sound.

Just as Zhou Heng's trembling fingers touched the jade belt buckle at the other's waist, the large hand that had been holding his waist suddenly moved upwards, grabbed his chin, and forced him to lift his head, escaping the almost suffocating kiss.

"Did you see who it was?" A deep, cold voice, accompanied by heavy breathing, pounded into Zhou Heng's muddled eardrums at close range. Every word felt like it was wrapped in ice shards. "Take off your clothes."

Zhou Heng was forced to tilt his head back, his unfocused eyes struggling to focus. All he could see was a blur of light and shadow, only familiar, cold, hard outlines, and those eyes that shone terrifyingly in the darkness, churning with emotions he couldn't understand.

"...Xiao...Jue..." He unconsciously uttered the name, his voice hoarse and broken, with a heavy nasal tone and a seductive quality catalyzed by the drug, more like a moan of confirmation.

The name seemed to be a switch, or perhaps it completely shattered the last layer of feigned tranquility.

Xiao Jue's eyes suddenly darkened, as if an abyss had split open, revealing the scorching lava beneath.

He didn't give Zhou Heng any more chance to speak, and kissed those swollen lips that had just uttered his name again, more fiercely and irresistibly than before.

"Sizzle—"

The sound of tearing fabric was exceptionally clear in the silent room. Zhou Heng's already disheveled outer robe was completely ripped open, followed by his inner garment.

Xiao Jue's movements were rough and efficient, as if he were dismantling the packaging of a trophy that was in the way. Zhou Heng's own weak and disruptive tearing was completely useless.

The black outer robe, leather wrist guards, and deep-sleeved garment were all carelessly tossed to the ground by their owner.

Almost naked, the moment their skin touched, both of them trembled violently.

Zhou Heng felt a chill, as if the evil fire within him had found an outlet, while Xiao Jue... his taut muscles and instantly burning body temperature betrayed the surging, almost out-of-control turmoil beneath.

The next second, everything spun around him. Zhou Heng was picked up by the waist and roughly thrown onto the bed not far away.

The thick blankets cushioned the impact, but he was still thrown around and disoriented. Before he could struggle, a heavy body pressed down on him, completely enveloping him.

Darkness is collapsing and rebuilding. The world is a pot of boiling, viscous honey, dragging him down.

Heat. Heat seeping from the depths of my bones, sizzling and steaming out a mesmerizing mist, everything in sight is melting and distorting.

He was a dying plant that had been thrown into the scorching midday sun of summer.

A stable and enormous shadow fell. It was an even larger, more oppressive presence, like an ancient tree with deep roots and a canopy that blocked out the sky, brazenly invading his dying, chaotic territory.

The shadows deepened. The branches of the ancient tree completely enveloped him, suppressing all his weak attempts to struggle.

After an unknown amount of time, the storm gradually subsided. But the enormous shadow remained, still looming over the area. The dying plant hadn't died; it had simply been completely altered.

From crying to cursing, and then from cursing back to incoherent pleas for mercy, Zhou Heng's consciousness was forcibly dragged out.

Sweat dripped from his taut jaw, landing on Zhou Heng's tear-streaked face.

She leaned down and bit Zhou Heng's earlobe, her voice hoarse like the grinding of sand: "You asked for it."

She fainted, then was woken up. Before her eyes was a swaying, blurry tent ceiling and a man's sweaty, taut jawline.

He regained consciousness briefly once more, feeling like a tattered rag that had been thoroughly overused and was about to fall apart, with every joint screaming.

"I will... die..." Zhou Heng's voice was barely audible, his tears had long since dried up, leaving only physiological sobs.

The man leaned down, his burning lips pressed against his sweaty earlobe, his breathing heavy, yet his voice carried a clear, satiated, and cruel quality, a hint of gratification in his voice:

"...There's a white porcelain bottle on the bedside table...apply it...and the discomfort will subside..."

These were the last words Zhou Heng heard before he was dragged back into the boundless darkness. Then, his consciousness completely vanished, leaving only his body trembling slightly and unconsciously.